


Falling By Another Name

by astralelegies



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Kinda, May and Coulson is the brotp, Post-Bahrain (Agents of SHIELD), Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralelegies/pseuds/astralelegies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was so easy for May to slip back into the old routine. The words left her mouth before she could really stop them, before she could even think about them, and the voice in her brain told her she couldn’t go down this road again or she’d only end up causing more hurt, but it became difficult to remember that in the face of the woman standing in front of her."</p><p>Melinda May, haunted by everything she has done, is dragged into attending an annual agency party, when a face from a different part of her past shows up to greet her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling By Another Name

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I do love a good dance story. The “old times at the academy” Maria Hill references may or may not crop up in a potential future project. Also, spoilers ahead for season 2, episode 17, “Melinda.” P.S. If these two don’t already have a ship name I’m voting Hillinda.

There was to be a ceremonial dance at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters for all agents of appropriate rank and decorum. It was a tradition that had gone back to the dawn of the organization’s founding, though what in particular it celebrated no one knew. Agent Melinda May suspected it was some kind of self-congratulatory employee satisfaction measure, or perhaps Director Fury having a laugh. Back at the academy there had been all kinds of speculation, with plenty of rumors abounding about the annual occasion’s goings-on and what it took to get an invite. This was May’s first year securing one—no one wanted to leave out the Cavalry—and the first year she would rather be doing almost anything else. 

Of course, it wasn’t as if she had a choice. 

“You need to get out more, May,” Coulson had told her, “It’s been six months since Bahrain. It’s time you allowed yourself to live again.”

May knew Coulson meant well, but he hadn’t been the one to go into that building and shoot a little girl. He didn’t even know May was responsible for her death. She just couldn’t go back to such light frivolities as parties, not after what she’d done. 

But he’d insisted, and although he hadn’t ordered her to go outright even after all these years May couldn’t let him down. That was how she found herself standing in the corner of a softly lit marble ballroom, listening to a small orchestra play some Shostakovich piece while splendidly-clothed couples waltzed by in an illusion of normalcy. 

The dress she’d chosen was the only one she had left from the days of her marriage to Andrew, which probably went against some sort of unspoken social code, but she didn’t care. It was a deep purple color, form-fitting and ending just below the knee, sleeveless, with an overlay of black lace and a high neckline that buttoned at the top. She couldn’t help but feel a tiny sense of pride in the chilling captivation the outfit commanded. 

So far a couple of people had approached her and she’d made distantly polite small talk, but fortunately most attendees seemed to be steering clear of her general direction. She hadn’t spotted Coulson yet but she knew eventually he’d find her and badger her into dancing with him, which she’d pretend to enjoy for his sake. Maybe she would, just a little, but as soon as any happiness began to take her the vigilant shadows of the past would inevitably drag her back out of it again.

To distract herself, she tried to occupy her mind with recognizing others who had been granted the honor of participance. Across the room she saw Natasha Romanov, looking unfairly alluring in a strappy black number that magnificently contrasted her fiery hair. A short distance away from her was Grant Ward, who looked to be about the only person in the entire place more uncomfortable with his surroundings than May was. Perhaps the higher-ups were trying to force some better social skills on him. In the center of the dance floor Victoria Hand swayed slowly and held her wife close, giving May a pang of…what, envy? Regret? 

She felt the sensation of being watched and turned to see Maria Hill smirking at her. _Damn._ Hill was the one person she’d hoped she wouldn’t catch sight of this evening, although deep down she’d known it would be unavoidable. She rather wondered if the commander was the one responsible for her invitation.

Hill wove her way through the crowd, and May contemplated finding a way to disappear, but that would be childish, and anyway it was too late now.

“Agent May. I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Are you?”

“Careful. That was almost an accusation.” 

“Careful yourself. That was almost flirting.”

It was so easy for May to slip back into the old routine. The words left her mouth before she could really stop them, before she could even think about them, and the voice in her brain told her she couldn’t go down this road again or she’d only end up causing more hurt, but it became difficult to remember that in the face of the woman standing in front of her. 

Maria Hill took a step closer, still smirking. “The old Melinda May wouldn’t have minded.” 

“The old Melinda May is dead.” It came out sharper than she’d intended. “I apologize.”

“No need,” said Hill, but the playfulness in her tone had gone, “I only came over to ask if you’d do me the honor of a dance.”

May looked at her in that blazer, with those skinny pants and silk tie so close to the purple of her own dress it almost looked intentional. In that moment, she wanted more than anything to say yes, but even as her heart swelled with that thought she knew she couldn’t. 

She shook her head. “Thank you for the offer.”

Hill looked like she was about to say something, but just then Romanov slid a casual arm around her waist. “I believe somebody owes me a dance?”

“Is that so?” Hill grinned, “Then by all means.”

Romanov took her by the hand and started leading her onto the floor. Hill turned back to May.

“My proposition still stands. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

May only gave her a rueful smile and watched them go, trying to ignore the ache that had intensified at seeing them together. 

Coulson came up behind her. “You’re just going to let your girl get away like that?”

The lunacy of his statement shocked May into a reply.

“Maria Hill is _not_ my girl.”

“No? Then why are you over here moping while she dances with someone else?” 

“It was my choice,” May said, and in return she was granted a skeptical eyebrow raise. “I mean it, Coulson. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Yes you can.” He gave her a hard stare, the kind that said he didn’t know all the facts but he didn’t need them to see how she was feeling. “I’m worried about you, May. And I know you know I am, but it doesn’t mean I can’t tell it to you outright. You can’t keep cutting yourself off from other people like this. Minimizing the damage you could do to others is ultimately just hurting yourself.”

“Maybe I deserve it,” she said quietly. 

“Listen to me.” He gripped her shoulder. “I can’t tell you what to do with yourself. I wouldn’t dare presume I have that right. But Melinda…for tonight, please for tonight, let what’s passed stay behind you. Maria Hill isn’t without her own skeletons in the closet, I think at this point maybe none of us are. But we’ve made it this far. I trust that she knows what she’s doing, and I trust that _you_ know what you’re doing.”

Out in the center of the dance floor, Hill and Romanov were swing dancing madly, neither of them quite getting the footing right but managing to look flawless all the same. 

“At least think about what I’ve said.”

And Melinda May was struck suddenly with a single, dangerous thought.

_I will own this darkness._

Her heart pounded it out like an invocation, sending it coursing through her veins with her blood until every molecule in her body screamed it at her. She didn’t even try to ignore it. 

“I’ll do it.”

Coulson didn’t say anything in return, just smiled in a way May hadn’t seen him manage in a long time. 

She watched Hill and Romanov break apart as the song ended, both breathless with laughter. It was unusual to see them acting so lightly. From what May remembered the so-called Black Widow had her fair share of blood on her hands, yet here she was, behaving like an ordinary woman out for a night on the town. Was this another of her façades, or could it be she was allowing herself a brief reprieve from all the pretending? 

Hill caught May’s eye for a moment, then looked away, heading for the opposite end of the room. 

“What are you waiting for? Go after her.”

“Phil.” May turned to him suddenly. “I…thank you.” 

He waved her aside. “What are friends for?”

“For all of this,” she replied. It was the closest to sentimentality the two of them—or alright, _she_ —ever got. 

May marched up to Hill, head held high, eyes burning with ice. 

“You said you wanted to dance?”

A slow grin broke out over Hill’s face, and she swaggered closer, until the two of them were a hair’s breadth away from touching. She took May’s hands and maneuvered her to the dance floor while keeping the same distance between them. The orchestra started up again. It was a song May didn’t recognize; slow, and sad, but a little bit hopeful, too. 

Maria Hill moved her hands to May’s waist, drawing her in. They were pressed against each other lightly, but with an intensity so fierce May had chills down her spine. Hill gently touched her head to May’s collarbone. 

“When did we become so restrained with one another?”  
“I don’t know if there is a when,” May told her, “one day we stood across from each other and realized we were gone.”

“I was going to make a comment about how this is just like old times at the academy, but it feels different,” said Hill. 

“We have to let go of who we used to be, and who we thought we could become.”

Hill nodded against her chest, causing May’s breath to catch in her throat. She carefully cupped the commander’s cheek, bringing her head up to meet her own. 

“It doesn’t mean we can’t discover new ground in the future, right?” 

Hill’s arms tightened on May’s waist, embracing her harder. “Agent Melinda May, I will make every discovery with you at my side.”

They both knew it was more complicated than that. There were duties and assignments and legal restrictions to contend with, and it wasn’t as if they had bountiful opportunity for congregation. Part of the reason May had been able to avoid the other woman so easily was they simply worked in different sectors, different spheres. There was a reason they were more cautious now. Their job had to come first.

It didn’t keep May from clinging onto Hill like a lifeline. 

Their lips were so close they were practically touching, and May had the urge to lean forward and kiss her. Instead she buried her head in Hill’s hair. She’d forgotten how familiar the smell was. 

There was something else that had been bothering her. “Agent Romanov—

“Romanov knows where she stands with me.”

May raised her chin again. “Do I?”

Hill’s gaze was amused, but serious. “Do you know where she stands with me, or do you know where _you_ stand with me?”

“Both.”

“Natasha Romanov is a flirtation, and she knows it and she is okay with it. But you…” Hill sighed a little. “…you’re different.”

May gave a tiny smile at that. “We’ve known each other a long time, haven’t we?”

“Mm. A long time.”

They left it there. May thought about the first time she’d laid eyes on this woman, and then about the first time she’d really seen her. For all the utterances of their youth their history had drawn to a close, just as this brief reunion would have to. 

The dance would end. They would return to their ordinary lives and their ordinary obligations. But in that instant, Melinda May hung suspended in the perpetuity of all the moments gathered in her hands. 

She let the darkness take her.


End file.
